


Grey and Yellow

by ItIsTheSpaceJam (fallenkilljoy4)



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Connor has dermatillomania, Cuddling, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Feelings, Post-Break Up, Queerplatonic Relationships, alana is a lesbian, aromantic connor, connor is gay, demiromantic alana, friends to friends squared
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 01:25:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17132399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenkilljoy4/pseuds/ItIsTheSpaceJam
Summary: She loved him.Definitely.But she wasn'tinlove with him.





	1. Shrike

**October**  
Alana opened her Snapchat, sending her daily streaks to all of her friends...so, just Connor, if they even were friends. A selfie of her smiling, with a cute filter, and a grey bar reading "Streaks!" across the middle. 

A minute later she got a notification. Connor's streaks didn't look like they were going on a college application like Alana's. A simple picture of his Chromebook screen open to CodeSkulptor, the box on the left a mess of code Alana didn't understand, and a popup tab flashing "Hi Alana! You're looking like a dumb bitch today!" in hot pink, with a little green 'S' scribbled in the corner. 

Ignoring the dumb bitch comment, she sent a well composed, aesthetic picture of her lunch spread out in front of her, a fruit cup, a sandwich, and carrot sticks, with a message of "Therapy session at 4? Elementary school playground?"

Connor sent back an intentionally ugly closeup of his acne ridden forehead. "Coolio"

* * *

They sky was overcast, and the crisp scent of autumn hung in the air as Alana gently rocked back and forth on the swings. The swing next her creaked, Connor plopping down into it. The swing was so low to the ground, and his legs were so long that his knees were practically tucked into his chest. He set a small bluetooth speaker down in the mulch between them and began fiddling with his phone. A second later, their joint "Sad Boi Hours :(" playlist played quietly in the background of whatever strange indie movie they felt like they were in. 

"You wanna go first?" Connor asked, already beggining to pick at a blackhead on his forehead. 

Alana nodded, digging into the mulch with the toe of her shoe. "I miss her"

Connor groaned. He'd heard this bullshit a million times before. "It's been a _year_ , Lonnie-"

"Ten months." Connor opened his mouth to speak, but Alana cut him off, "I know, I know, I just... I don't know." She sighed. 

"She'd kill me if she knew I was here, you know...And I just," he ceased picking at his face to light a cigarette," I just need to know that we do this because your friends with _me_ , and not because I'm some kind of replacement for her-

"That's not-"

"-Just 'cause she's my sister and all." 

"It's not like that." Alana clenched her fists, her yellow acrylic nails digging into her soft palms. Connor said yellow nails made her look like a thot when she first got them done. She'd laughed.

Alana sighed again, her voice shaky. She blinked rapidly, willing tears not to fall. "She's seeing someone." 

It wasn't a question. She'd seen the pictures on Instagram. She knew.

Connor nodded, puffing away on his cigarette, "Yeah, Sabrina Patel."

Alana knew that too.

"They're happy?"

"Yeah"

"Good."

She meant that. She wanted Zoe to be happy. That was all she ever wanted. 

Alana cast her gaze toward the ground, and growing hole in the dirt. "You're turn"

Connor flicked his cigarette butt over the chain link fence and into the grass on the other side. He picked at a scab on his arm. _Will he_ never _let those damn things_ heal _?,_ Alana thought, then mentally kicked herself, _Dumb bitch, dermatillomania waits for no man._

"I wanna fucking die" Connor deadpanned. Skipping the pleasantries then. He pulled a batman fidget cube from the pocket of his ratty grey hoodie, frantically clicking the buttons. "You know I don't mean it, right?"

"What?"

"When I call you a dumb bitch," he switched to the joystick, "I do it out of... affection, or whatever. You're not dumb. And you're not a-"

"I'm a bitch. You can say it." She shook her head. 

"You're not..." he reached out, ever so gently ghosting the back of his pale finger over her knuckles. "You wouldn't be here if you were, would you?"

Alana shrugged, "It's fine. You didn't call me a bitch, the computer did-"

"Yeah, and I _told_ the computer to call you a bitch. That's how coding _works_ , Lonnie." he was fiddling with the rollerball now.

"I know how coding works!" 

Connor's throat felt like sandpaper all of a sudden. He coughed, thinking that might help, but soon he was close to hacking up a lung. Alana patted him on the back, telling him to take it easy and take deep breaths.

When his coughing fit finally died out, Alana tried to make joke, putting on her best Mom voice, "You know, you're coughing 'cause you're always on that damn phone." 

Connor laughed, but stopped before he started coughing again.

"You should see a doctor," Alana said, serious this time, "and quit smoking too. I'm worried." 

"I'm fine" Connor insisted, not really believing it. 

**November**  
"Zoe's gonna be home soon." Connor took a hit from his dab pen and passed it to Alana. 

"Is that your way of telling me to leave?" Alana watched the faint haze of the vapor float into the air. She was sprawled on Connor's bed, on the side with the nightstand. Connor was perpendicular to her, his head rested on her stomach, and his legs hanging off the bed. She took another hit from the pen and passed it back.

"You can if you want" Connor shrugged. "I mean, I don't want you to but with Zoe..."

"Can I sleep over?" Alana began braiding a tiny section of Connor's hair. Maybe it was because she was high, but his hair was so _soft_. 

"Yeah, yeah." He shrugged. Alana let go of his hair as his pulled himself upright. "Lemme just... I'm gonna make tea and uh... man, you want a sandwich? I'm gonna make some sandwiches." He walked slowly to the door, and Alana giggled, thinking he looked like a baby giraffe standing up for the first time. Connor waved her off, "You can borrow some of my pajamas, I'll be right back" and he closed the door behind him, muttering something like 'we better have that bologna with the fucking olives in it'. 

Alana went over to Connor's dresser and pulled out the set of pajamas that was the softest. She left her clothes in the corner, and flopped back down on the bed. Her legs felt like jello. 

Connor came back juggling two mugs of tea and at least six sandwiches in his arms. He dumped the entire stash onto the nightstand next to Alana's head and turned on the tv.

* * *

It was raining when Alana woke up. She glanced at the clock. 2:33 AM. She didn't even remember falling asleep. The tv was still on, playing an episode of Forensic Files, and even in her grogginess, Alana tried to follow along. At some point, she realized Connor had fallen asleep sitting up, and that her head was rested in his lap. 

Alana wasn't particularly fond of small children. She found them to be quite a handful. Nonetheless, this episode was really getting to her. Yeah, she didn't like kids, but she didn't want them to die. What kind of monster would murder a child? She cried silently, tears pouring and lips trembling. A hand rested on her shoulder. So Connor was awake. Then he moved his hand from her shoulder to her hair, and began running his fingers through it soothingly. 

That was the moment Alana realized that Connor would never know how much he meant to her. She would never be able to tell him how much he meant to her. She could try, but no words would even come close. Unless they could switch places; unless Connor could see the way his face lights up the world when he laughs; unless Connor could hear the way he sang like an angel without even trying, unless Connor could smell his cologne and feel his arms wrapped around him in the warmest embrace possible, Connor would never know how much meant to her.

But she didn't love him.

Well, she wasn't in love with him. After Zoe, she doesn't think she can love anyone like that anymore. At least not for a long time. But Connor... She would walk to the ends of the earth to make him smile. Her heart feels full in the best way whenever he's around. She kind of wanted to kiss him, just to see how it felt.

So she did.

**December**  
They never talked about it. They were both so tired when it happened, Alana wondered if Connor even remembered it, if it ever even happened at all. 

Until the day after Christmas. 

Zoe was with Sabrina and her family. Funny. Two years ago today, Zoe was at Alana's house, with Alana's family, and they cuddled, and watched a movie, and they were so _in love_. One year ago today, Connor was at Alana's house, trying to make her calm the fuck down, chill the fuck out, and fucking _breath_. Losing Zoe had practically _destroyed_ her. 

Today, she was laying in Connor's bed, high on fumes of gingerbread and evergreen, as some Hozier song drifted from the speaker on the nightstand.

_Remember me, love_  
_when I'm reborn_  
_as a shrike to your sharp_  
_and glorious thorn_

Alana didn't know why, but that song made her want to hold Connor's hand. So she interlaced her fingers with his and squeezed. And he squeezed back. _She wasn't in love with him_. She didn't know what she felt. She just knew she really needed to kiss him. That's how they ended up making out, slow and sloppy, until _Shrike_ dissolved into _It Will Come Back_. 

"So..." Connor asked, "What does this mean?" He felt Alana give her head, rested on his chest, a little shake.

"I don't think it means anything." She twirled a lock of Connor's hair around her finger. "I mean... It means _something_ , obviously, I just... I don't know what." 

Connor sighed. "I don't want to lead you on or anything, Lonnie. I don't like you. I mean- I _like_ you, like, as a friend. I just don't _like_ like you." He groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Fuck, that made no sense."

"Makes perfect sense." Alana assured him. "I think... I think I love you. But I'm not _in_ love with you." She rolled over so that she was basically on top of Connor, her face buried in his chest, his arms wrapped around her torso snuggly. "It's weird. I wanna hold you, and kiss you, and I _love_ you but... it's not _romantic_... _That_ doesn't make any sense."

"I don't think it has to." Connor kissed the top of her head. Her hair wasn't soft. It was coarse, and kind of scratchy, and braided into cornrows with little sparkly beads scattered throughout. And it was _perfect_. "Let's just see where it goes, huh? We're fine like this, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Alana leaned up to kiss his jaw, "Yeah we're good."

**January**  
It seemed like Connor's bed was the only place Alana found herself anymore. She didn't even care this was Zoe's house anymore. She didn't care that Zoe was in the next room giggling with Sabrina. All she cared about was the necklace searing into her skin in the best way.

It had been a birthday present from Connor. A silver heart-shaped locket, with a picture of them together inside, smiling away, like nothing was wrong with them. Like Alana wasn't emotionally damaged. Like Connor didn't pick his own skin to ribbons.

He'd gotten it engraved, too. _A chuisle mo chroí_.

_Pulse of my heart_

She kept the engraved side pressed to her chest, shielded from the world. It was her's. No one else needed to know. 

She loosely clutched the locket in one hand and, with the other, hooked a finger through the friendship bracelet on Connor's wrist. She'd made it for him from grey and yellow thread. _Their colors_ , she'd said. 

She could _feel_ Connor smiling. To confirm, she let go of the locket, and brushed her thumb over his lips. Yeah, he was smiling. And so was she. 

"I wanna try something." She hummed, content, and asked, "Take your shirt off?"

Connor complied, without question, nor hesitation, tossing his hoodie and t-shirt to the floor. His pale chest was covered in scars from his near constant picking at it, but with Alana as his only company, he didn't seem to care. 

"Now you." he instructed, undoing the first button of her blouse for her. She playfully shoved his hand away and unbuttoned the rest herself, shrugging of the garment and letting it fall to the floor. 

"Should I..." 

Connor shrugged, "If you want."

Alana unfastened her bra and cast that aside as well. Connor took a moment to let his eyes scan over her. "I'm gay but... you're beautiful."

The corner of her mouth twitched upward. "I'm a lesbian, but," she gingerly ran her fingers over Connor's sternum, "You're beautiful too." And with that, she collapsed beside him. They were so _close_ , so _warm_ , and they never wanted to be any farther from each other than they were at that moment. They eventually drifted to sleep, limbs tangled together, in a position that looked almost post-coital.

At least, that's what Zoe thought when she barged in. Then, she slowly backed out, deciding she could wait to ask Connor if he'd taken her nail polish again. 

**February**  
It was a whole week before she breathed a word of it to anyone. It was a rare weekend when Alana wasn't there, instead away at a family reunion. She'd wanted to bring Connor, but didn't want to have to explain their relationship, so ultimately Connor had convinced her to go without him.

Connor was at the kitchen counter, eating apple pie straight from the tin, like some sort of heathen. Zoe was in her pajamas, Sabrina presumably still asleep upstairs. Connor knew for a fact she hadn't left the night before. 

"I didn't know you and Alana were together." Zoe poured herself a cup of coffee and stirred in some sugar.

"We're not." Connor replied through a mouthful of pie.

"I saw you in bed together" Zoe said, almost reluctantly. Almost _accusingly_. 

"Yeah, so?" Connor shrugged. "We like to cuddle."

"You were _naked._ " Yeah, definitely accusingly.

Connor stuck his fork back into the pie and shrugged again, "We like to cuddle naked," as if it was a normal thing everyone does. He raised an eyebrow, setting his fork down and bracing himself against the counter. "We're not fucking, if that's what you think. She's still a lesbian. And I'm still very much a homo." 

Zoe furrowed her brows, taking a sip of her coffee. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Never said it did."

* * *

Connor bought Alana a bouquet of yellow roses for valentines day. Yellow for friendship. Yellow for _her_. He'd taken her to Barnes & Noble, and they spent hours looking at books and skimming through records. Connor had walked out with some book about crystals, Alana with _Nina Cried Power_ on vinyl. 

They spent the rest of the day in Connor's bed, watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine and stealing kisses until it was dark outside. Alana didn't care when she heard Zoe stumble in the front door, Sabrina in tow. She didn't care when she heard exactly what they were doing in the next room. She didn't care. _And she wasn't in love with Connor._

She wasn't. Not when he kissed her on the forehead and said "Love you, Lonnie." Not when she kissed him on the lips and said the same. Not when he kissed her neck and called her _mo chroí_. 

She _loved_ him.

But she wasn't _in_ love with him. 

**March**  
Connor came to all three showings of the school musical. _Of course he did_. And all three times, when Alana crossed the stage to bow, Connor shouted "That's my girl!" as loud as his lungs would allow, and clapped until his hands stung. 

After the last show, he was able to convince her that the only way to celebrate was to take the Challenger, play _Roll To Me_ on repeat, and drive really fast. 

He took her to the old orchard, and they sprawled out on a blanket on the ground, just watching the stars. 

At one point, he turned to her. "Zoe knows about us."

Alana nodded. "Okay." 

"I tried to explain to her. What _us_ is, what we are, but... I don't think she gets it. Hell, I don't know if _I_ get it half the time." He ran his fingers through her hair. "I mean, I know how I _feel_. I just can't put it into words."

"I know." Alana curled into him. "I can't explain it either. It's not romantic, we're not _dating_ , but..."

"But we're definitely more than friends."


	2. Sweet Thing

**April**   
Over the past few months, Alana's been pretty good at steering clear of Zoe. In fact, Alana's pretty sure she hasn't even seen her face, not once, the entire time. Until one day, when she was leaving, and Zoe was on the couch.

“Alana!” Zoe called out, turning her head just enough to see the other girl from the corner of her eye. “I wanna talk to you.”

_I don't want to talk to you_ , Alana thought, inching closer. “What about?”

This was harder than Alana thought. They'd barely spoken, if at all, since they broke up. Over a year ago now. They practically lived in the same house, and they'd never spoken. Alana almost didn't know how to talk to her without being able to hold her, and run her fingers through her hair, and kiss her on the nose. The way that made her giggle.

“What's going on with you and my brother?”

_There it was_. Zoe _never_ called Connor her _brother_. Alana clenched her fist. Yellow nails digging into soft palms.

“Nothing.” She said, her mouth pressed into a thin line, eyes going almost dark. _Lie_.

“Bullshit, Alana!” Zoe jumped to her feet. “What's going on with you two?”

“Nothing's going on, Zoe! We're friends. That's it.” _Lie_. And then she went off. “It's none of your business anyway. So what if we were together? Are you jealous? Because last I checked _you_ broke up with _me_. And if me being around all the time upsets you, fine! I'll stop coming over! You won't see me anymore!” Alana snatched her jacket from the coat rack, nearly tipping it over, just as Connor came bounding down the stairs. 

“Lonnie, what's going on? Why's everyone yelling?” He went to hold her by the elbow but she jerked back. “Woah, okay.” He took a step back, his hands in the air. Alana was staring daggers at Zoe, a gaze that went unbroken. “Zoe? What's going on?”

“Why don't you tell me?” She snapped. 

Finally, Alana shook her head, shrugging on her jacket, and turned for the door. As she was about to step outside, Zoe called out.

“You know he's not me!” 

And Alana saw _red_. She huffed and slammed the door behind her, the whole house shaking from the force of it. 

With a grumble of “What the _fuck_ , Zoe?” Connor followed her. He found her mere moments away from keying Zoe's car, and she was _not_ happy when he stopped her. 

“Let's go to the mall,” He grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward his own car, “Lonnie, come on. Let's go. Let's go to the mall. We'll get pretzels, come on.”

Upon later recounts of the event, Connor would deny having to wrestle her into the car.

“You're _not_ her.” Alana muttered, more to herself than to Connor. “You're not a replacement for her. I don't feel that way about you, the way I felt about her, I don't-”

“I know, Lonnie, I know.”

* * *

They got pretzels first, like Connor promised. After that, it was aimless meandering for a while, before Connor dragged her into Forever 21. 

“Try this on.” He handed her a yellow cardigan from the rack. She swapped her jacket for the cardigan, dumping her jacket in Connor's awaiting arms. The cardigan was soft, and warm, and bright. And the way Connor smiled at her when he saw her in it made her want to never take it off. So she didn't. He bought it for her. 

“Now you need something grey.” She pointed out. That something grey ended up being a skull carved from labradorite she'd found when Connor dragged her into East Meets West. They'd found a bunch of cool stuff in there. A deck of tarot cards, _Fuck you, Lonnie, I know how to read tarot cards_ , some sweet smelling incense, _So your room doesn't smell like weed all the time, Connor_ , and two necklaces made from rose quartz, _It can represent any kind if love, not just romantic love_. 

And so one piece of rose quartz hung just below Alana's locket. The other was tucked beneath Connors shirt. 

**May**   
“Let's take a gap year.” Connor suggested, rolling over onto his stomach. His hair splayed out across the mattress and over his face before Alana tucked it behind his ear, giving his face a little pat. “I mean, I know it's like, the _last_ thing you wanna do but… I dunno,” he shrugged, “Could be nice, taking a year off.”

He pulled himself up to sit with his back against the wall, resting his cheek atop Alana's head. “It just so happens that my aunt and uncle are gonna spend a year touring Europe. They're gonna need someone to house-sit their apartment and I figured… I dunno, take the year off from school, live in a sweet ass apartment rent free,” he gestured between them, “figure _this_ shit out. Just… live our lives a little bit before they really get started.” 

“That _does_ sound nice.” Alana hummed. “Where is this sweet ass apartment?”

“Somewhere in North Jersey. Woodbridge, I think.”

“Maybe.” Alana shrugged.

“Well, you have ‘til graduation to decide. If we don't take it they might let Sabrina-”  
“Why would they let Sabrina?” Alana was suddenly on high alert.

 

“Well, she's going to Rutgers so, I mean it kinda makes sense. Free home and board, first year of college? It's a pretty sweet deal.”

“Yeah, we're taking that apartment.”

* * *

The next weekend they took a little road trip to check out the place. With the stress of Alana’s impending AP exams, it was a well needed break. The weather was getting warmer and they rolled the windows down, singing along to Johnny Cash. Alana had bought Connor a pair of aviators at a rest stop as a joke, now he refused to take them off. He looked good in them, they added to the biker jacket he'd insisted on wearing. _I look hot in this jacket, Lonnie. Just because you like girls doesn't mean you can deny it_. He chewed on a toothpick to distract him from a scab on his knuckle that he was itching to pick at. 

Every few miles he would glance over at Alana. In her bright yellow dress, and that stupid straw hat, she looked as radiant as the sun. She would look back at him and smile. _God, she was lucky_.

Connor's aunt Sally and uncle Jay were exactly what Alana had been expecting. Friendly suburban white people. Exactly the kind that would go on a year-long tour of Europe. They were really excited about meeting Connor's ‘girlfriend’. So excited that Connor and Alana didn't bother to correct them. 

Alana didn't _care_ that they called her his girlfriend. She felt kind of the same way she felt when people mispronounced her name. It wasn't _correct_ but it was _fine_ and not really _worth_ correcting. 

The apartment was nice. The kitchen was full of plants, the bedroom was cozy, and there were a lot of windows, making the place feel really bright and open. There was even a small balcony. It was _perfect_.

They spent the night on the futon in the living room. There was the occasional passing car, or barking dog. In the summer the cicadas and crickets would come out, making the darkness hum. Alana could just picture the two of them on the balcony in the night, getting high and just talking for hours. 

“So, what do you think? You gonna like it?” Connor asked the next day, on the parkway. 

“I'll be honest, when you said it was a ‘sweet-ass apartment’ I thought it'd be bigger.”

“Well, what do you want, Lonnie? It's Jersey, that apartment probably costs as much as my house.”

And Alana laughed at the complete and utter _realness_ of it all.

**June**  
Throwing caps in the air felt so surreal. Alana couldn't believe it was over. And how fitting, her gown was yellow. Connor's wasn't so fitting. It was blue, and he looked like a dork in it. His mom had made him tie his hair back too. The only time he smiled was when he finally got to hug Alana. He'd picked her up and spun her around, and they'd laughed as hard as two people who made it out of the worst years of their lives alive could laugh.

Connor's mom insisted on taking a million pictures, mostly of just the two of them, but a few with Zoe. One, maybe two, with Sabrina. 

They went to a party that night. Alana slept with a cute girl from their rival school. Angelica something-or-other. _How scandalous._ Connor got wasted and blew Jared Kleinman in the bathroom. It was a fun night all around.

* * *

A week later they were on the road again, this time with their bags packed full of clothes and books and whatever they thought they needed to live on their own. Connor even dug out his old guitar for this new chapter of his life. _I figure, no more school, I'll finally have time to actually learn how to play it._

That very first night they stood on the balcony, Connor flicking orange embers off the end of his cigarettes, smoke curling around his face and into the air. He went to pick at a blackhead on his forehead, but Alana pulled his hand away, holding it tightly and running the pad of her thumb over the back if his hand.

“Put on some music.” She said. Connor pulled out his phone and tapped away, sweet sound pouring from it in no time. Alana swayed in the cool breeze to the beat, her free hand clasping the rose quartz about her neck, the vibration of it making her palm tingle. She'd never really believed in crystals and magick before, not until Connor started believing it. 

And he _did_ believe it. It was hard not to when the night was wrapped around him like a blanket, and the most important person in his life was living with him, _existing_ with him, holding his hand, and singing along to Hozier. 

_I shall drive my chariot down your streets and cry_   
_Hey it's me tonight I'm dynamite and I don't know why_   
_You shall take me strongly in your arms again_   
_And I still wonder if I ever felt the pain_

Around midnight they finally settled into bed. _Their_ bed. The sheets were silky and soft, and they were grey. 

“You know,” Connor wrapped an arm around Alana's shoulders as they stared up at the popcorn ceiling, the only thing they _didn't_ like about the apartment, “We never really talked about, like, boundaries and stuff.”

“You'd think we would've discussed that _before_ we moved in together.”

“You know, you would think, but neither one of us is very smart.”

“Hey!” Alana gave him a playful smack on the arm. “You're right, though. Boundaries. So… Yes, No, and Maybes?”

“Sounds good to me.” 

Alana nodded, going silent for a moment, before throwing out the first No. “No offense or anything, but the thought of having sex with you makes me very sad.”

“Right back at you!” Connor guffawed. “No sex. Kissing and cuddling are okay, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Alana nodded. “Holding hands is good?”

“It is… What about… What about when people ask about us? What do we tell them?”

Alana thought back to how Sally and Jay called her Connor's girlfriend. She didn't mind, but she knows it would get kind of annoying moving forward, because she _wasn't_ his girlfriend.

“I mean it's… it’s really no one’s business but ours. I guess we could tell them we're partners? I mean that's all encompassing and nonspecific, right?”

Connor opened his mouth to say something, but Alana cut him off.

“And if you say ‘howdy partner’ I'm gonna smack you.”

Connor snapped his mouth shut.


End file.
